In the Emperor's Lap
by Cabbitshivers
Summary: Zakath and Garion are discussing the pro's and con's of Sadi's red box, and the mixed blessings of a considerate mother cat and an overly zealous Orb. Minor slash


A/N: In **Demon Lord of Karanda**, Book Three of **_The Mallorean_** by David Eddings, Chapter Eight, page 157, _in which Zakath and Garion are discussing the pros and cons of Sadi's red box and the mixed blessings of a considerate mother cat._

**In the Emperor's Lap**  
_By Cabbitshivers  
July, 2005_

Garion wasn't certain why, but he liked the sound of Zakath's laugh. It did something to the Emperor of Mallorea's face, lessened the swollen field of emptiness he somehow seemed to carry about himself, appeared to almost wipe aside for a moment whatever else had been lurking behind his eyes. Perhaps it was because the Emperor laughed so rarely, scarcely enough times to count on one hand since Garion had come into his company, and that the act itself was so unused and so new that it had that lightness of weight that a young childs had. Almost as if he was suprised to be laughing at all. It reminded Garion a lot of Eriond's laugh when they had retrieved the Orb from Rak Cthol and were camped in the Vale. The child's laugh had echoed for miles as he had frolicked with Horse - a delighted sound, filled with suprise and delight. Though no doubt Eriond laughed more than the man who was sitting before him. There were scarcely enough laugh lines on his face to fill a tiny fraction of Barak's, and the large Cherek laughed more heartily than any man he knew, and had to be close to the same age.

The orange kitten on Zakath's lap stirred, rising up onto its feet and stretching its tiny mouth open in a heroic yawn. Attempting to stretch between steps towards the Emperor's knees, it wobbled a little and succeeded only in tumbling off his lap and to the floor. The mackerel-tabby mother cat swiftly caught up another kitten, a black and white one, by the scruff of the neck and deposited it almost exactly where the orange one had been lying. Then she looked at Zakath's face and meowed questioningly.

"Thank you," Zakath murmured to her.

Satisfied, the cat leapt down, caught the orange kitten which was prancing off into one of the corners, and proceeded to clean it, holding it down with one paw.

Garion looked at her amazed. "Does she do that all the time?" He asked.

Zakath nodded. "She's busy being a mother," He said, stroking the new kittens back with a couple of long fingers. "But she doesn't want me to get lonely."

"That's considerate of her." Garion said, though struck with the sensitive perception Zakath's cat displayed. He knew, being a leader of a country himself, how contradictory the position could be. On one side you were surrounded by people; servants; aides; guards; any number of men who needed your opinion or approval for one thing or another. Everything was King or Emperor this, and King or Emperor that. Very rarely was it "Garion" this, or "Zakath" that in the Emperor's case. Garion had very few people he could be totally honest with back in Riva, very few he could call friends. And he wasn't even certain Zakath had that opportunity here in Mallorea, or if he had, if he was willing to take it or not.

"I think I could learn to live without it," Zakath was saying as he tried to untangle the black and white kittens paws which were all wrapped around his hand while it gnawed on one of his knuckles. He winced, and Garion felt a similar sympatheic expression cross his face as the kittens mock attack became more zealous. "Their teeth when they are kittens are so _sharp_."

Garion was then distracted by the orange tabby, which had somehow managed to escape its mothers clutches, leaping up onto his own lap. It was still damp from its cleaning, and one tuft of fur on the top of its head stuck ludicrously up into the air in a cutely curled cowlick. He took the opportunity to pet it as it curled itself around in circles on his lap, since leaving Faldor's farm all those years ago he'd had little occasion to hold a kitten.

"Are you sure you don't want one?" Zakath said, eyeing the orange kitten on Garion's lap with an odd expression on his face.

"No. No, thank you." Garion replied. The kitten was nosing awfully close to the pouch at his hip which held the Orb. He watched warily, uncertain of what would happen if an animal were to touch the stone. He held his hands lightly against the kitten, ready to grab it should it get too close. However, in the strange curious nature that Garion had come to expect from the stone, the Orb, as if responding to the curiosity of the kitten, began to hum in a softy cajoling tone. The kitten drew nearer, the tips of its ears alterately swivelling back and pricking forwards as it inched ever closer to the pouch. It reached out with a paw, patting lightly at its leather, and the song from the Orb seemed to grow a little louder. The kitten bent its head closer and sniffed at the pouch, then batting at the leather with its paw once more, became suddenly bored with the stone and leapt off of Garion's lap to the floor.

Garion let out a breath he was unaware of holding.

The black and white kitten, having meanwhile given up on its fight with Zakath's hand, had been watching from the Emperor's lap, and when the orange kitten had jumped from Garion's lap its eyes had lit up, and digging in deep with claws it hadn't learnt to sheath yet, it leapt from its seat on Zakath onto the orange kitten with a high-pitched, strangled meaow. A small, fervent scrap ensued, then both kittens darted off under some furniture in a corner, and could be heard to be scrapping further.

The mackerel-tabby mother cat let out a meow of her own, her tail flicking agitatedly from side to side. She cast a quick look around for a nearby kitten to, as Garion assumed, replace the black and white one which had fled its proper place as she had done before. Not finding one, Garion was suprised when she turned to him and meowed in a very commanding sort of way. The tone was so like that of one Ce'Nedra would use, although in cat, that Garion found himself laughing. The mother cat then seemed to glower at him, her tail swishing so violently that it almost jerked her side to side with it. She meowed again, more emphatically, her green eyes flashing, and Garion was even more suprised when the Orb at his hip flashed blue light in response.

"What?" He gasped, even as Zakath echoed his exclamation.

There was another meow, and the Orb flashed even brighter this time. It was followed by a insistant tugging, much like when it was directing him after Zandramas, and the tugging continued until it became so strong that Garion was forced to leave his chair and submit to its will.

"Garion?" Zakath asked, staring peculiarly at him as he was dragged over to stand in front of him.

"It's not me." Garion insisted, as the Orb urged him closer still. It was like it was with the kitten, its song cajoling and difficult to resist. Garion attempted to fight it, anyway, though already knowing the futility of such a thing. He could almost hear the dry voice in his mind telling him that resistance was futile and to stop fighting it.

"What's going on?" Zakath demanded. "What--?"

He was cut short just as a suprised yell was yanked from Garion's throat. The Orb, tired of struggling with its bearer, had given one last mighty tug, the force of which (that perhaps on second thought had been a little _too_ over-zealous) had sent the Rivan King and Overlord of the West tumbling directly into Kal Zakath, the Emperor of Mallorea's lap.

For a moment there was nothing spoken, the eyes of Garion and Zakath fixed firmly and directly on each other.

There was shock. Garion could admit to the shock. When the Orb was tugging at him he certainly hadn't expected to wind up here, feeling the firm thighs of the Emperor of Mallorea pressing against his backside. He assumed Zakath was feeling the shock also. The Emperor's eyes were wide and the iris's were huge. His pupils were like small black dots in the centre. At first the shock was so great that Garion wasn't even aware that his arms had somehow, during the plummet into Zakath's lap , wound their way around the other man's neck. He did notice, however, that his breathing, and Zakath's also, was unaccustomedly fast.

He cleared his throat, and attempted to say something, but his mouth fell open barren of any words.

Zakath, thankfully, saved him the trouble of trying again.

"I'll assume," The Emperor said in a painfully thin voice. "That this was my cats fault."

Garion closed his mouth and nodded.

Zakath sighed. "I don't suppose you can move?" He asked plaintively.

Garion attempted to push himself off of Zakath's lap, but another tug from a suddenly joyously singing Orb seated him even more firmly on the other man's lap, his opposite hip to the one the Orb was tied to pressed deeply into Zakath's stomach. Somehow, his arms had wound themselves even further around Zakath's neck, and his hands now clutched at his shoulders. Ruefully, he shook his head.

"Ah." Was all Zakath said. Instead, he threw a glance to his mackarel-tabby cat, who was staring at their position with a definite smug expression in her eyes. Garion was once again struck by the similaraties this cat shared with Ce'Nedra.

_Why me?_ He asked the dry voice in his mind.

Only the purring of a smugly satisfied cat and the song of an equally smug Orb _were his answers._


End file.
